Page 12 of Courting the Duchess (Spy Society #1)

A laina managed to avoid her husband for the remainder of that day, leaving her to spend several hours making her planned calls without hindrance, take the rest of her meals in peace, and see to the tasks she needed to accomplish without further intrusion. As she helped Alaina fix the damage the damp wind had done to her hair, Penny had offhandedly mentioned that the duke had gone out to see to some business. Alaina couldn’t have cared less where he went…as long as he stayed out of her way. Her mind and her heart could not handle Sterling’s polarizing effect. One minute, she wished he’d never stop kissing and touching her, the next, her heart cracked all over again when she thought about all the ways he’d betrayed their marriage. Space was good; space could allow her to breathe and sort through the emotions he unleashed within her. She had plenty of other things requiring her attention.

Her Reading Society gathered the following afternoon in the blue drawing room at Morton House once more. Ladies were scattered about, sharing sofas and perched upon dainty chairs, flounced down on ottomans. Tea and delicate iced cakes had been laid out beside a selection of buttery shortbread and gingersnaps. The room was filled with the pleasant clink of china, bubbly laughter, and excited conversation. Alaina surveyed the group with a sense of comfort. These were her people. Unlike her husband, they didn’t make her uneasy or set her world on its ear. She prided herself on the fact that she’d cultivated an environment where these women could be comfortable and that they all trusted one another. There was no artifice or peacocking here, only genuine companionship and striving toward common goals. Not only were they friends who shared an enjoyment of literature, but they pooled their resources together and championed worthy causes. Over time, they’d discovered that they might be ineffective separately, but, together, they could be a force for good. And Alaina would do everything in her power to guard this sanctuary.

After it was clear that most women had caught up with one another and enjoyed their refreshments, Alaina stood and called their meeting to order. The women quickly settled in and expectantly held their manuscripts in their laps. Some were marked with thin strips of colorful ribbons; others had folded corners of the parchment over to save their places. Each face looked to her with eager anticipation.

The discussion began.

As she’d anticipated, several of the first women to speak admitted to their skepticism as to the play’s true nature.

“A man essentially breaking a woman like a horse and creating a biddable wife is not normally within our purview,” said Mrs. Stratford, the actress’s daughter. “I don’t quite see how it fits the spirit of this Society,” she added not unkindly. Several heads bobbed in agreement.

“I’m having trouble understanding how Kate began so strong only to be cowed into becoming the woman Petruchio wanted her to be,” admitted Miss Jocelyn Finchley—a quiet young woman who usually remained on the outskirts of their conversations.

“Shouldn’t we be reading something more, I don’t know, empowering?” chimed in Lady Sommerfeld with a little Gallic lift of one shoulder.

“You didn’t see it as empowering?” Alaina asked, affecting a tone of deep concern. It was everything she could do not to smile when she met Juliette’s eye. Her friend had been integral in choosing the piece and working with Alaina to craft this plan. “How did you view Kate?” she asked the assembly.

“Tamed,” said one voice.

“Browbeaten,” chimed in another.

“Forced to fulfill a role she didn’t want by a society that viewed her only as a pawn,” said Miss Finchley. Several wide eyes swiveled to the young lady. This seemed to strike a nerve as several more members spoke up in agreement.

Alaina waited patiently for the murmurs and side conversations to die down before she spoke again. “I interpreted Kate as supremely powerful and infinitely more cunning than Petruchio.” Several women sat back in disbelief. “I am a firm believer that Mr. Shakespeare was crafting one of the first truly powerful female leads of the stage when he wrote Kate. Here, allow me to demonstrate…”

Sterling was seated at the desk in his study, innocently reading through some correspondence, when the most unholy shrieking reached his ears.

Body still tainted with wisps of the bloodlust unleashed the night before, he was quicker to act than he was to think.

Alaina was in trouble, and blood would spill.

Heart pounding, he threw down his papers and sprang from the chair fast enough to send it banging to the floor. He sped out into the hall just as another screech shattered the peace of the house. Sprinting toward the sound, his mind frantically raced with possibilities, his muscles tensing for battle, as he burst through the door to the blue drawing room near the front of the house.

And into a space brimming with Society women.

Some were standing, others were sitting, but all of them had the same manuscript open in their hands or draped across their laps. And, to a one, they stared at him with the same astonished expression.

In the center of it all was his wife.

Alaina smiled sweetly at his harried, hurried appearance. She cared not one whit that his heart was beating out of his chest, that he’d feared her in mortal danger and desired nothing more than to charge headlong into the fray to give his life for hers.

That should have been Sterling’s first clue that this situation did not bode well for him.

“Hello, Morton,” Alaina greeted him in an unfamiliar chirping tone. “Your timing is impeccable as we find ourselves in need of a convincing Petruchio.”

He released his body’s tension in a low, deep exhalation and straightened his posture. A couple of women tittered from behind their papers. It was now the second time he’d barged in on one of these meetings and he’d certainly made enough of a memorable impression at this point. He had to save face however he could if he was to retain any dignity.

Alaina accepted the manuscript offered to her by a fair, raven-haired woman before crossing the room and holding it out to him. It had already been marked to a specific page with a strip of ivory cloth.

His second clue, that minx. She had prepared for him—this was no whim.

He held up his hands in defense. “I fear I am no actor. There must certainly be a better option here among these lovely ladies.” He finished off with a flash of his most charming smile. The determined gleam in Alaina’s sapphire eyes was unnerving in its intensity.

“Please, Your Grace,” said the raven-haired woman. “You couldn’t possibly be a more miserable Petruchio than I.”

“Truly,” piped in the stunning red-haired woman beside her. As the only woman in attendance with such a shocking shade of hair, Sterling assumed she must be Sommerfeld’s wife. “Nothing can be worse than Lady Juliette.”

“I beg your pardon?” the woman Sterling now knew to be his wife’s other close friend exclaimed with mock indignation.

“Are you familiar with The Taming of the Shrew ?” Alaina asked, cutting off the banter between the other women. More than a dozen pairs of expectant eyes awaited his answer.

“I have seen it performed once,” Sterling admitted as he accepted the manuscript from his wife.

“Good.” She flashed him a smile that made his knees feel slightly weak. How long had he waited to have her look at him like that again? Faced with it, his brain went slightly mushy, and he’d later blame that for his caving into her request. “We’re going to try the scene where Kate and Petruchio first meet.”

Despite his reservations, Sterling quickly found himself enthralled with his wife and her passionate rendition. He was in awe of the way her eyes flashed and how her color rose to wash out her delicate freckles. She practically danced around him, prowling like a lioness as she spoke. The rest of the room fell away, and he forgot all about their audience of interested guests. He struggled to reconcile this intoxicating woman with the prim and proper rose he’d wed, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. She may have been acting—performing words written centuries prior—but there was no mistaking the spark was all hers…and it was arousing beyond measure.

At the scene’s conclusion, the room materialized around them once more as the ladies erupted into enthusiastic applause. Alaina broke character and turned away from him, back to their guests.

“Now,” she addressed her Reading Society; “let us compare that to Kate’s behavior in the final scene of the play.” She motioned for Sterling to flip through the pages of his manuscript and locate the other marked section. Meanwhile, she rapidly assigned a few roles to some of the other ladies. He skimmed the scene to refresh his memory, and a part of him wondered how well Alaina would play the part of obedient wife. He tried not to smile at the image. Perhaps he’d give her another kiss as a reward.

The scene began with other voices chiming in; their tones ranged from confident and loud, to peppered with nervous laughter and self-conscious glances in his direction. One girl who was so shy her voice could barely be heard from where he stood. Her cheeks flushed when Sterling gave her what he hoped was a non-threatening, reassuring smile. He noticed Alaina nodding her head encouragingly to the young woman as well.

Finally, “Kate” returned to the scene…and Sterling was taken aback by Alaina’s performance.

Her haughty look and defiant stance starkly belied her words. Her flashing blue eyes never left his.

Clue three: She’d learned her part well enough to set aside her manuscript entirely.

He all but stammered his way through the lines, so set back on his heels that he was unable to match his wife’s defiant fire.

Sterling felt the sudden snap of the trap as the scene concluded, and Petruchio— he— was summarily chastened. The quirk of one of her well-shaped brows underscored her point, and she turned back to her congregation.

“Do you see how Kate manipulated the situation, as well as Petruchio? And how Petruchio is foolish and gullible enough to believe he could quash Kate? He believes in his innate superiority as the surety of his success—not to mention that it excuses his childish behavior.”

All at once, Sterling realized just why she’d drawn him into this situation… Alaina wanted to teach him a lesson. She wanted to shame him. Publicly.

His fists clenched suddenly and violently, crumpling the manuscript in his grip as his wife continued to speak. She was so obviously pleased with herself, and making a spectacle of their marriage in front of her friends was her modicum of revenge upon him.

A grudging part of him admired her creativity—he’d clearly underestimated her torture tactics—and her keen understanding and analysis of the text.

The other part of him (the ducal part) didn’t appreciate the undermining behavior.

Not one bit.

“Leave us,” he barked to the room, interrupting Alaina’s oration.

She frowned and turned back to him. “I hardly think it is polite to demand our guests leave. Again. What about—”

“Manners be damned,” he snapped, cutting her off once more. Several of the women gave little jumps. He’d likely be on an apology tour the next day for this, but he cared less than the weight of a feather about it at that moment. He needed to get Alaina alone. “Out.” The last word was uttered in such a low, dangerous tone that there wasn’t a moment’s hesitation before the women gathered their things and all but fled. They rushed past Sterling without making eye contact and Alaina followed their progress until she met him near the drawing room door. Neither said a word until the last woman had gathered her pelisse and rushed from Morton House.

Alaina scowled and opened her mouth—no doubt to utter a scathing set down—but Sterling immediately pressed her bodily against the door frame, every inch of him meeting her unapologetically. His mouth found hers and kissed her deeply, possessively. His tongue forced its way past her lips, stroking her mouth and tangling with hers. He lapped up her squeak of indignant surprise and swallowed it whole like a draught, struggling not to smile when he felt her falter. At first, she stiffened against him and fisted her hands in the sleeves of his coat, but she did not shove him away this time. Whether shock or desire held her in place, it mattered not to Sterling. He could only think about this moment, tasting her, feeling her, devouring her fire, breathing her in to keep her with him forever.

He wanted to grind his pelvis into hers until she was as weak-kneed with raging desire as he. He longed to strip the layers from between them—the tangible and the imagined—until they both were laid bare. No secrets. No clothing. Just this clash of passion that made them both gasp and ache and, at long last, scream in relief.

She spun him to distraction, and he needed her with everything inside of him. Alaina drove him mad with her words, but even more so with the heat she drew from his loins. His every nerve roared to possess her wholly, body, soul, and even indomitable spirit. It would be a challenge to even attempt to harness this wild woman of his, but Sterling was up to the task.

He hadn’t fought tooth and nail for the last eight years to not finally, truthfully, be able to call her his.

He ripped his lips from hers, his chest heaving with a myriad of emotions. “Do you realize how maddening it is to not know whether I’d prefer to punish you or fuck you senseless? You infuriate me beyond measure; you enthrall me beyond reason. You are Kate incarnate, my little hellion, and I cannot stop thinking about you,” he growled as if the admission were painful. “You make me want to throttle you as much as you make me want to take you to my bed and make love to you until we’re both too spent to move.” He found the catch in her breathing to be unbelievably erotic. His eyes flew unbidden to the rise and fall of her swelling décolletage.

And then she tensed against him.

“I—I cannot,” Alaina eked out. “I am not a woman who will turn a blind eye to her husband’s countless indiscretions.”

It was in that instant that Sterling knew their life would go nowhere with only secrets and half-truths between them. The time had come for him to decide between his duty and his marriage, and he knew what he must do.

He gentled his hold on her, sliding his hands up her sides and gently cupping her face between his palms. He needed her to hear him.

His very life depended upon her believing him.

“There never was anyone else,” he whispered.

She tried to shake her head against his hands. “Impossible.”

“But it is the truth,” he insisted, hoping the gentleness of his tone would find her where volume hadn’t.

“You expect me to believe that a man like you has…remained celibate for eight years.”

“I expect you to believe it because it is the truth.”

“But how?”

He couldn’t help but release a helpless half-hearted chuckle. “Regardless of what you may think, I do have some self-control. I don’t need to mount everything in a skirt.”

“But everyone said—”

“I don’t give a single damn what the ton and their rumors say…and you shouldn’t either, Alaina. I am telling you the truth,” he reiterated. “I remained true to you and our marriage despite what you may have believed or been told. Even if you haven’t done the same, I cannot blame you…” The last slipped past his lips without thinking.

Sterling had heard his share of rumors while he’d been abroad. They had been how he’d learned about Alaina’s Reading Society and the stir it was creating. Much as it pained him, he’d also heard about Alaina’s retinue of admirers eager to take his place in Alaina’s life and her bed. How could he blame her for accepting any one of them when he knew she’d believed he wanted no part of their marriage—that he’d done ten times worse?

The truth was, nearly a decade earlier, he’d been looking forward to marrying and getting to know his pretty, witty young wife; of starting a family with her.

But everything had happened so fast.

He’d graduated from university, mourned the loss of his parents, come into his majority, and taken on the full responsibilities of his title so quickly. He’d met Alaina and fallen for her. He’d never counted on being sent to the Continent with clear instructions for dangerous espionage and what would turn out to be a nebulous return date. Despite the crass recommendation from his superiors in the ranks of the Spy Society, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to risk impregnating Alaina on their wedding night and then leaving—not when he didn’t know when or if he’d be returning. He had been a selfish bastard to marry her even knowing he would have to abandon her, but he hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of her with anyone else. The excuse was shaky at best, but in his youthful ignorance, he’d told himself it would all work out for the best for both of them in the end. However, the threads of regret that would come to color his life began to form the moment he decided to propose and marry Alaina despite his orders to travel to the Continent, though the deepest part of him had always taken comfort in knowing she awaited his return. That, of course, did not absolve him of his actions, but it was the truth. He’d been young, headstrong, brimming with unearned confidence, and ready to face the world; it would torture him to the end of his days how that had so negatively impacted Alaina’s life.

Many lonely nights of travel and soul-searching over the years afforded him sufficient time to stew in this regret, eventually coming to terms with the very real possibility that his actions may have driven his wife to seek solace elsewhere. He’d also had enough time to realize it would be unfair of him to expect his wife to take on the same celibacy he had…not when she didn’t know the truth: he’d been faithful to their vows.

Alaina flushed at his words.

Was she embarrassed about discussing her lovers? Or that he had admitted that he knew the probability of her having sought comfort in the arms of another?

A surge of jealousy crashed over him, but he clenched his jaw against it.

“I forgive you,” he said as softly as he was able, though the words were like razors in his throat. He had expected her to understand his absence with no explanation; likewise, he needed to accept that his wife may have taken certain opportunities out of spite or loneliness or desire. “I—” He was cut off when Alaina wrapped her hands around his wrists and shook her head more forcefully.

“There has been no one else,” she whispered.

Sterling’s heart stuttered in his chest. He could hardly believe her words. “What?”

“There has been no one else,” Alaina repeated meekly, a blush deepening along her elegant cheekbones.

“Why?” It was an inane question, but he had to know. Could he dare to hope that she’d longed to turn back the clock and had held onto their marriage as he had? He tried to ignore the elation in his chest, but it was nearly impossible.

“When you left a girl of eighteen on her wedding night, you left her feeling like the only possibility was that her husband found her to be the least desirable woman in the world.” She averted her eyes in mortification as she spoke the most brutally, painfully honest words Sterling had ever heard. “Why else wouldn’t you have come to my bed? For that matter, what other man would have wanted me if my own husband did not?”

Sterling cursed beneath his breath, damning himself and the damage he’d wrought. “I’ve always found you desirable,” he swore. “Inexplicably, even more so when your eyes spark and you spit your eloquently venomous darts.” He was heartened by the flicker of a smile on her lips. “I happen to find you beautiful and infinitely attractive.” That smile disappeared and her eyes searched his. He knew she still didn’t believe him, so he set about remedying that. “I find your strength and wit attractive and your body…” He inhaled deeply. “Your body is enough to drive me mad.” Her eyes widened and he could tell she was listening intently. “A weaker man would have walked away from the hell you put me through, but I know—I have always known—you to be worth any battle. Continue your plotting. Throw your barbs. Plan other ways to embarrass me before a crowd. I will be here. I will always be here, Alaina. There is very little you can say or do that would make me do otherwise.”

Her lips parted as if she wished to contradict him, but no sound came.

Instead, Sterling claimed her mouth again.

Wrecked her.

Slid his hands down to cup and knead the taut, round globes of her bottom as he insinuated one hard thigh between her legs to press against her mound, reveling in the mingling heat of their bodies.

Let her feel how hard he was for her despite her needling; despite her careful plan to humiliate him.

He needed her to know that he would never stop aching for her; that every nerve in his body screamed for her when she was near, when he so much as caught a whiff of her scent.

“Whatever you do, I’ll not back down. I want you. I need you,” he growled against her neck, savoring how she shifted against his thigh to alleviate the ache he’d ignited within her. She glared like an ice queen, but she was all fire beneath the surface, just like he knew she would be. Likewise, she set him aflame, and together, they would be consumed by it…if she could relinquish some of the animosity she was so determined to harbor toward him. If they could lay down their weapons long enough to allow this connection to take root, then Sterling was confident they would be the excellent match he’d always known they could be.

“Hold me at arm’s length, push me away, do nothing but scowl at me, but I am not leaving you. Ever. Again. And I strongly suggest you warm to the idea of sharing this space with me because I want only you.” He used his hands on her rear to rock her lower body against his for good measure. “Only you.”

Alaina emitted a shuddering breath as he nipped the delicate line of her bare collarbone. Chills danced across his flesh when her hands ran up his arms and clasped the back of his neck. He wished she’d tangle her fingers there, tug at it, use it as a handle to push him to his knees so he could lift her skirts and taste her most secret of places and service her until she was wracked with pleasure.

“As disastrous as my prior attempts have been,” he continued; “know that I will wear down your resistance. I’m determined to share our life and begin it in earnest. I’ll wait another eight years if that’s what it takes, but I won’t stop until you believe in my devotion and accept that I do, indeed, find you to be the most arousing woman I’ve ever met. And, no matter what you throw at me, I will continue to wait for you. I lie awake each night thinking of all the things I could do to you, of all the things I could make you feel… All you need to do is ask, and I will gladly oblige.”

She whimpered and clutched him more tightly. Unable to resist, Sterling kissed Alaina’s parted lips soundly before suddenly releasing her, somewhat thrilled to note that she had to grip the doorframe behind her to remain steady and standing. His every nerve screaming in protest, he took his leave before his wife could find her voice…before he could go back on his word and lay her down on the carpet and lift her skirts right there.

He needed to cool his blood, but all he wanted to do was wrap his fist around his cock and pump it until he was spent—no matter how unsatisfying it would be. Nothing short of having Alaina could ever be enough for him, and he would not rest until he’d finally accomplished his aim.

*

Oh my…

That had backfired spectacularly.

Alaina replayed her conversation with Sterling again and again in rapid succession as she remained frozen in the doorway of the drawing room on her jelly-like legs. Even recalling the intensity in his eyes released another pool of heat between her legs where she ached and throbbed, her body begging for relief she could not name.

Alaina felt chilly and bereft when Sterling had retreated. Every part of her trembled, but not from fear.

But from what?

Desire?

She had to wrap her fingers in her skirts to prevent their shaking.

If she hadn’t known better, she might have believed Sterling to be sincere.

But…a man couldn’t remain celibate for that long, could he?

Certainly not from what little her mother had told her on her wedding night all those years ago. She’d informed Alaina that a man’s baser urges regularly overtook him, and, when that happened, he could act without thinking, his only aim to satisfy those needs. It was to be Alaina’s responsibility as the duke’s wife to lie back and allow him that relief.

Still…

Her husband had been home for several weeks at that point and not once had he forced her into his bed. They’d kissed, but he’d shown more control and restraint than she’d been led to believe the male sex possessed. And she found herself wondering what would happen when that control finally snapped.

It was surprising to her when she experienced a great deal more breathless excitement over that notion than fear or apprehension. Her traitorous body craved in the most primal of ways what he had offered to her, and she feared her resolve was weakening. Not only did his body call to her, but the strength of his determination in the face of her defiance was unexpectedly magnetic.

Alaina didn’t know how much longer she could deny how breathless her husband made her. His strength, his power, his words all worked together to chip away at the armor she’d forged and fortified. Soon, she would be laid bare and raw.

She only hoped she’d survive it.

*

The first rosy tendrils of dawn were edging into the sky when Sterling finally gave up trying to sleep. He had been restless and wound as taut as a clock’s cogs ever since he’d left Alaina standing glassy-eyed in the drawing room.

How was a man expected to maintain his sanity when a woman such as she resided on the other side of an unlocked door? She was within his reach, and—no matter how much his body begged for it—he refused to act upon his desire to break down that flimsy barrier to claim her delicious lips again, to finally explore her glorious body. Instead, he suffered in solitary silence.

He held his breath to listen to the tone and cadence of her voice as she spoke to her maid. He focused on the sounds of her undressing and then re-dressing for bed, the slight creak of ropes as she settled herself in bed. Watched the death of the slim strip of golden light at the door’s seam when she extinguished the candle for sleep.

Hours of tossing and turning rewarded him with nothing but a crick in his shoulder and an ache in his skull. He was painfully aroused—had been since the moment he heard Alaina enter her bedchamber and knew she was about to undress. What he wouldn’t have given just to watch. The speed with which he vacillated from frustration with her to wanting her so badly that nothing else would suffice was mind-boggling.

And now, his powerful cockstand was creating a tent with the bedding, mocking him for being a coward.

He should have taken what he wanted by now…but he knew he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He wasn’t a man to do something like that to any woman—let alone his wife. And, if he wanted any chance at a future with Alaina, then there could be no further mistakes moving forward. He knew in his soul that she’d cared for him and desired him when they were younger, and he was now convinced that the ticket to their future lay in capitalizing on those feelings. He could taste on her tongue how badly she wished to give in. She’d once welcomed his chaste touches and tame kisses; no matter how she tried to fight it, her responsiveness made it clear to him that she enjoyed this more mature attraction between them. Whatever she threw at him, he’d continue his mission to woo his wife undeterred. He tried not to consider how long that might take.

Instead, Sterling slid his hand down his abdomen, wrapping his fingers around the thick length of his member. His breath hissed through his teeth and his eyes slid closed at the contact. A testing pump made his hips jerk with need. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a release, and the swirling ache in his balls was a painful reminder.

Immediately, his mind conjured an image of Alaina as she’d been when she read her lines before the Reading Society, glorious and brilliant…and all his. He could still feel her fingers clutching at him while he plundered her mouth and now imagined them on his cock instead of his own. Would she be cautious and delicate or confident? Deciding on the latter, his fantasy began to gain speed.

Changing his grip, Sterling ran his palm up and down the sensitive shaft, rubbing his thumb along the slit in the head and dragging down the beads of moisture already accumulating there, wishing it was Alaina’s mouth or her cunny making him slick instead. God, if she would part those plump raspberry-red lips for him, he might just expire right then and there. What wouldn’t he give to have her whip-sharp tongue licking him from root to tip? Nothing. He’d give everything to have it.

Sterling’s strokes increased in speed and strength, chest heaving, his breath catching on gasps and curses.

He wanted to pound into her from every position imaginable and create a few fantasies of their own. He wanted to hear her scream his name and sob from pleasure. He wanted to spill deep inside of her, to fill her womb with his seed. He wanted her. He wanted Alaina.

One. Two. Three more hard pumps and Sterling lost control. The tingling in the base of his spine snapped and his body clenched, releasing his pleasure in wave after wave of ecstasy as he spilled himself in a white-hot orgasm that left him weak and practically blind with relief.

Floating down from his release, Sterling was overcome by a rush of disappointment because, of course, there was no Alaina beside him. She wasn’t smiling up at him in unabashed enjoyment of the pleasure only she could give to him.

He was alone in his oversized bed, his spend growing cold on his stomach.

How long could he go on like this…pining after a woman who was his wife and slept not fifteen feet away?